


The Haunting

by drippingwithsin



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Dancing, El Tango De Roxanne, F/F, Light Angst, Metaphors, Tango
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 22:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drippingwithsin/pseuds/drippingwithsin
Summary: In the midst of pain, despair and love they dance.





	The Haunting

**Author's Note:**

> Just a morsel to pass the time on a hurricane rainy day. Probably awful. I haven't really looked over that much. 
> 
> Anyways, this was inspired by oceansinmychest's 'Shake it Out'(absolutely gorgeous btw), Adam Hurst's 'Death Waltz, and Moulin Rouge's 'El Tango De Roxanne'. I recommend listening to the songs first. It'll put you in the mood.

In the midst of mortals, Life and Death spot each other underneath a sea of twinkling lights. Vibrant blues merge with the deepest of darkness. A beckoning tilt of the head. A taunting glint of the eye. They track one another at a wide berth. Predator and prey. Which is which? The former mingles, unashamed by the company. The latter parts the lessers with the promise of Medusa’s unwavering gaze.

  
But like Perseus with his shield, the ploy is not always effective. She becomes bound by a pack of elaborately dressed zombies, keeping her just far enough to see yet not near enough touch.

  
Needless to say, it's a truly maddening ordeal-- one of which only worsens in the next couple of 'pardon mes'.  

  
Another challenger stalks forward to claim her prize. The beauty of youth. Body and hair an once rare treat of milk and fresh honey. She touches what is not hers, earning a smile that is also not hers.

  
Obsidian turns jade. Rage surges, pumped by an unrequited heart. The lioness fights valiantly to preserve all good sense and not lunge at her ravel with teeth bared, claws unsheathed. Powerless, Joan glares from her vantage point, ever watchful.

  
Glittery words and light touches are eventually met with a shake of chestnut curls and polite dismissal.

  
Siphoned of their temporary bout of jealousy muscles melt instantly. The Beast rumbles, pleased to no end now. But extremely wary. Where there’s one, there’s more.

  
The pursuit begins anew.

  
Joan approaches, cautious. Will her presence be accepted? Or will she be cast out of Eden for her inferiority? She reaches, a hand on bronze she captures the butterfly by its fragile wing.

  
Vera turns. Rejection and annoyance firmly etched across her face, she goes to reprimand only to cease all fire when she locks gazes with her pursuer.

_  
Joan_

  
Cornflowers alight with so many maddening things languidly drink in the immense form before them. Joan straightens and puffs out chest. Unconsciously showing her worth. Might belied by the trepidation fluttering within her stomach.

  
Vera steps forward and places a tiny hand upon her pounding heart. Joan holds her breath. Waiting.

  
The maiden steps back lowers her touch to a shapely hip and begins circling her suitor languidly, running splayed fingers over suit and muscle. Enjoying the hardness she feels beneath her fingertips. With this amount of strength, Joan truly is a worthy protector.

  
If only the lioness listened to the lamb instead of devouring her constantly.

  
Joan remains frozen resisting the urge to flex. To grab. To take. The decision is not hers. She will be patient. For now at least.

  
In the end, the journey is punctuated by a pleased smile and kiss against the underside of a handsome jaw.

  
Acceptance granted.

  
A strong arm of destruction wraps around a fragile frame, bringing it close. The hand of grim does not wield her scythe tonight instead slender fingers take its place, forgiving the malevolence of its past. The haunting pitch of a cello begins soon joined by a piano, beseeching desolate spirits to come forth.

  
They dance, swaying with the memorizing melody. Eyes shut to the world. They only feel the arms of the other. 

  
Step for step.

  
Breath for breath.

  
The deities synchronize, meticulously claiming the floor as their blank canvas. Their movements the brush, dipped in tears and regret, is used to paint their tale for all to see.  

  
Manipulation,

  
Control,

  
Sorrow,

  
Shame,

  
Longing,

  
Another heartache, another failed romance. They go on and on. Bodies battered. Spirits torn. Time stitches at a painstakingly slow pace while guilt and love eagerly hold the cloth. Tears of old flow until none are left.

  
Their audience watches their own eyes watering. The sight of their union a true beauty to behold.

  
Joan looks down for forgiveness only to find it already given in her beloved’s eye. It’s the most precious of gifts. One she plans to keep forever. She clutches onto her tightly, burrowing her nose in a jasmine scented neck. 

  
The sins of the past washed away they are reborn. 

  
A pause in activity.

  
An announcement of what is to come rings out. They reluctantly pull apart, stepping back a couple of meters away from one another.

  
Storm clouds cleared. Apollo drives his horses onward, claiming the sky once more. Scorching heat beats down. The atmosphere shifts. Dark seduction curls like smoke in the air. The tune changes dramatically. 

  
Challenging red-rimmed gazes interlock. They mirror one another.

  
A leg thrusts sideways stomping its foot, before sliding it sharply across the flooring only to come down once more. The sound combined with numerous other couples around them is nearly deafening. As are their heartbeats. 

  
They circle one another tightly, ghosting bodies and hands over each other, teasingly. Daringly. Finally, the larger of the duo strikes, grasping hold of a slender wrist she yanks her close. Right hands clasped high in the air, Joan's left arm wraps around a narrow waist while Vera clamps onto her shoulder. Poised, they begin their silent seduction. The music swells. A new picture is being painted.

  
Lingering frustration,

  
Confession,

  
Desire _,_

  
Passion excites with the screeches of the violins. Their breathing and pace quicken. Movements become sharper. A mating dance of serpents they intertwine. Bronze and midnight blue over alabaster and charcoal. They move as one.   
  
  
Lovers in the midst of finding one another, they proceed to set the place on fire. Twisting and twirling. Writhing against one another in borderline lewd moves, they show a little too much of Vera's skin in slight glimpses.  

   
A jolting spin and Vera finds herself with her back momentarily flushed against Joan’s full breasts before being lifted into the air. She bows backwards over Joan’s head as she’s twirled for all to see.

  
It’s not an easy feat, but it’s well worth the awed gasps.

  
Joan places her gently back onto her feet. Vera turns swiftly, hand snatches hand. They begin anew.

  
Grabs, spins, lingering caresses. They ravish each other on the dancefloor.

  
Joan’s hand drifts down from Vera’s side to her thigh, she grasps hold and winds it around her hip, exposing a large portion of a tanned skin to hyena eyes. Let them look, that's all they'll receive anyways. 

  
Death leads them backwards, life follows.

  
Hands on Joan’s shoulders, head tilted back, Vera’s face twists with faux terror as the toe of her high heel scrapes against the floor, further adding to the illusion. The pose, a maiden captured by a dastardly fiend to be later ravished.

  
Will she fight or give in?

  
They come to a halt, her leg is relieved. _For now._ The tango continues. Skin against skin, heels against marble, limbs against limbs. It repeats until they’re left breathless. With exertion. With want.

  
When the song finally comes to its ending notes. Joan dips her cinematically. Strong arms hold the slight woman upward, dark eyes shear into blue. Telling each other all they needed to know. Mouths part, their panting breaths mingle.

  
In one last move, they meet. Nude lips slam into coral in a final dance. This one painting only one picture.

 _  
Love_   


End file.
